Alessa. I may not speak.
Moro. And wherefore may not?
Alessa. I may not. It is best.
Moro. As says Yolanda,
Who is to-day impenetrable in all.
But who, now, in a lofty grief above
The misery that blasted her, seems calm,
And answers only,—
"God in His season will,
I trust, unfold it soon; I cannot, now!" ...
And yet I heard
Her darkly bid the Paphian be gone——
From here—without her.
Alessa. And he would not?
Moro. No.
Does she not see Amaury dangerous
For truth—which you conceal?
Alessa. The acolytes
Are waiting.
Moro. Go.... But if this hour brings forth
What you shall rue——
Alessa. Father!
[Goes quickly, troubled.